Finn looks at me for some moments, before simply saying, ‘That ol’ bench has been there for years.’ He revs the engine. ‘See you at the top,’ he says, and roars away.

I lead the way up the windy path, dragging one of the sledges, Maddie close behind pulling the other. Keeping to the track, we eventually reach the top of the path, where Finn and Thomas are waiting for us.

I look down the hill, and can just make out the footprints stretching across the untrodden snow from the farmhouse to the bench. ‘Is Michael on the estate at the moment?’ I ask Finn.

‘Why?’

‘No reason – just wondered.’ I give an odd laugh that doesn’t sound like me.

‘I think he’s away. You know he’s rarely there,’ he says, and pauses for a moment, studying my face. ‘He had nothing to do with your sister’s disappearance, Amelia, if that’s what you’re thinking. He wasn’t even in the country, remember?’

‘Yes, I know,’ I say, feeling chastised.

‘We all know Jackson took her,’ he adds, sounding so certain. As certain as I’d been when I first arrived. But doubts are creeping in. What if it hadn’t been Jackson?

‘Hey, I’m still here.’ It’s Thomas, peering around Finn. ‘And freezing doesn’t begin to cover it.’

‘Let’s get you back then,’ Finn said with a laugh, and he takes off across the snow. My brother flutters his fingers at me and Maddie, and winks, despite his obvious discomfort.

‘Finn’s great, isn’t he?’ Maddie says, as though she would trust him with her life. ‘I like him a lot.’

I don’t reply – simply turn and head towards my cottage, the snow crunching under my boots. Michael Collis was abroad when my sister disappeared, and had nothing to do with it – I know that deep down. But still my curiosity is piqued. I want to meet him. Find out more about him. Discover who Kyla is.

Chapter 16

Present Day

Me

Misty nudges my face with his nose, and the rumble of his continuous purr is comforting. He has no concept of what I’m going through. He comes and goes as he pleases through the cat flap, unlike me. There’s no escape for me.

I’m on the bed where I spend almost all of my time. Waiting. There’s no structure to my days. And I’ve given up thinking anyone’s looking for me. Nobody will find me here.

I look through the window, as I tickle Misty’s soft ear. Clouds move fast across the dusty-grey sky as though escaping. It hasn’t snowed in a while.

I rest my face against Misty’s coat, breathing him in. He smells of winter – but he isn’t cold. Neither am I. The heater is on.